To Thine Own Self Be True
by Tabii
Summary: AU: Due to the scrutiny of the school they work for, outgoing biology teacher Alfred Jones and strict English professor Arthur Kirkland must hide their relationship. But what happens when the hero wants to show support for a student who is coming out?
1. Unto the Voice and Yielding of that Body

**Disclaimer:** So, I don't own Hetalia- so on and so forth- and I know that the teacher AU has been done before. Just trying something new. Is it weird that I came up with this while in Zoology lecture?

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><p>The crowd outside the science classroom was huge, Alfred noted as he made his way down the hall. It made sense, of course; the class was taught by one of the most popular teachers in the school. He was friendly, casual, and made even the more complicated parts of his syllabus accessible to his students. His office was almost always open for students to drop in with questions, and he was generous with grades and extra credit while still pushing the class to learn. Yes, Mr. Jones was a great teacher indeed.<p>

"Hey guys!" he called happily, and the crowd turned to look at the young science teacher. Already he could see the hearts in some of the students' eyes. Ah, it was the same every semester, but could he help that he was amazingly sexy? No, no he could not.

"Is it locked? Here, I've got the key..."

Alfred rummaged in his bag and pulled out the key, unlocking the door and opening it. There was a mad rush for seats, as usual, but instead of trying to claim the back row first- where they would be free to slack off or nap- Alfred's students always vied for positions in the front of the class. From what he could tell, about fifty percent of it was kids with crushes and another forty percent were there because they just thought he was a cool teacher. The rest were the serious students.

"All right, so! I'm Professor Jones, your Bio professor for the semester!" Alfred said brightly as he passed out the class syllabus, "But y'all can call me Alfred, or Al, if you'd like. My office hours are printed right up at the top of your syllabuses, and I ain't gonna go over the whole thing with you. You guys can read- your first assignment will be to read the syllabus and come to class with it signed and any questions you might have so I can clarify."

There was a murmur of acknowledgement from around the classroom, and the young professor smiled encouragingly. They weren't sure what to make of him, yet.

"Just a few quick rules before I call roll: No headphones unless I give you the ok, turn off or silence your cell phones during class. A big part of your grade is in participation, so try not to fall asleep, and if you have a question or something to add- speak up! Don't worry if you think you're going to look stupid, you'll come to find out that I do stupid shit all the time."

This got a laugh from the class, most of the students beginning to relax as they realized that their instructor wasn't some stuck-up prick who thought he could command them just because he was a professor. Alfred's bright blue eyes changed subtly behind his square-framed glasses, and suddenly he gave off the air of a very over-protective older-brother, or father. One who was not afraid to break limbs and had the physique to do it.

"And if I hear any reports of any kind of bullying," he said quietly, but he knew that the whole class heard him, "That bully will regret it, I promise you. And don't think that I won't find out."

The class nodded solemnly, and Alfred knew that they had taken this last bit of information to heart. He could be intimidating when he wanted to; six-foot two with plenty of muscle packed on beneath his casual attire from years of playing sports and having the best body out of all his peers. It came in handy, sometimes, but he usually played up his goofier side- he wasn't some muscle-head jock! He liked to think of himself as everyone's friend, everyone's cool big brother. The hero.

"Great! And feel free to drop by my office anytime I'm in if you need to talk about anything. It doesn't need to be school-related; if you're upset or stressed or just need someone to talk to, I'll be there and try to help."

Alfred went over roll, glad to see that everyone was there for the first day, and trying to match faces to names. Back when he was in school, everyone had known his name and face, since he was such an extrovert, but his twin, Matthew, was often confused for him or forgotten entirely. Matt had once likened it to being invisible, which was Not Cool with Alfred. No one deserved to feel like they were invisible! Every person in the world mattered.

By the end of the class period, he'd had the class won over and they'd actually managed to cover the first lecture, which was something few other professors got around to on the first day. It was all that introductory-stuff, droning on and on about the rules, and how tests would be graded. Hell, the kids should all ready know how to act in a classroom, and they were fully capable of reading and understanding a three-page syllabus.

"Ok, see y'all Wednesday! Don't forget to read and sign your syllabuses!" Alfred called as the class slowly filtered out, "We'll be starting cell biology, so read pages sixty to seventy-five if you want to get a leg up!"

He checked the time and looked up at the hand-drawn time table on his desk. He had an hour and a half until his next class- a lab- and there were no English classes in progress for another hour. Grinning, Alfred packed up his bag and headed towards D-Building, where the language, art, and music programs were housed. Maybe he could convince Arthur to give up his homemade lunch in his office (steak and kidney pie. Nasty. Although Alfred had seen him packing "fairy cakes", which were worth sneaking) and come with him to the cafeteria for something tastier, like a hamburger with fries and a Coke! Or, failing that, homemade macaroni and cheese was the special today and it was damn good.

"Hey, Artie, you here?" Alfred said, knocking loudly on the door of one Prof. Arthur Kirkland, "You wanna go get some lunch?"

The door opened, revealing a surly blond man with enormous eyebrows and piercing green eyes. He was a few inches shorter than Alfred, but he radiated authority. It had taken Alfred a few months to not be inwardly intimidated by him.

"Jones," Professor Kirkland said in his crisp British accent (which Alfred really loved when it wasn't making him feel like he was two inches tall), "We've spoken about this before-"

"Please?" Alfred interrupted, looking hopeful. Arthur's look softened and he sighed, ushering the taller man into his office and closing the door behind them. Hearing the automatic lock click into place, Alfred leaned down to kiss the Brit.

"I missed you," he said, pulling away. A faint blush tinged Arthur's face, and despite his scowl he looked adorable (perhaps because of his scowl. Alfred didn't know. Arthur always looked adorable to him).

"I know you did," Arthur said, "But Alfred, we're supposed to being laying low."

"Flying beneath the gaydar?" Alfred quipped, happy to see that it brought a small smile to Arthur's face.

"Exactly. It's all ready suspicious enough that we're 'roommates', and the school has been watching you so closely..."

Now it was Alfred's turn to scowl. A few people in the school had balked at his being so casual with his students, claiming that it wasn't appropriate. This led to his every move being watched over by the Dean of Faculty, who was an old-fashioned kind of guy, with strict views of how everyone should behave.

"There's nothing gay about going down to the cafeteria with another professor," he protested, "Even if he is secretly my boyfriend. C'mon, Arthur. We don't need to be all snuggly and lovey, but we don't have to act like complete strangers all the time. We're supposed to be roommates. That usually means friends."

Arthur's arms uncrossed- a good sign- and he raised himself up to give Alfred another kiss.

"All right, all right. Damn you, I can never say no to you..."

"Damn straight. You love my natural charm and good looks," Alfred beamed, giving his boyfriend his best hunky-look, the one that had made all the girls swoon in high school. Arthur laughed and gave the taller man's cheek a pat.

"Yes, yes I do. My love for you has absolutely nothing to do with your brains or your personality," he said sarcastically, "Now, let's get going, you big oaf. We won't have time for lunch if we linger much longer."

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><p>Arthur was in his usual dour after-class mood when Alfred got home evening, and the biology professor was prepared to ease him back to a more genial state.<p>

"Honestly, you'd think this was primary school!" Arthur snarled as Alfred set about making tea for his partner, "I thought this semester would be it, the semester when I finally get a class that knows how to behave, but no! No, they spend their time gazing out the window, or giggling with their friends, or doing work for other classes! We barely managed to get through the syllabus today! And most of them don't even have their books. How hard can the simple act of buying a few books be?"

Alfred chuckled, setting a mug of tea with milk in front of the raging English professor. He'd asked Arthur once if he ever tried lowering his expectations just slightly- not everyone was as devoted to literature and the English language as he was, after all- and being less strict with his classes, especially on the first day, but he'd gotten a scalding two-hour lecture and been forced to sleep on the couch that night. It wasn't worth bringing the topic up again; not when he was trying to calm Arthur down.

"Kids are always lazy on the first day," he chuckled, kissing Arthur's cheek before beginning to prepare dinner (hmmm, Chicken Marsala tonight), "You always have at least two good students, don't you?"

"My 'good students', as you call them, should be the average, not the exception," Arthur grumbled, taking a sip of his tea, "Everyone in my classes should be able to perform to that level. Everyone in my classes _could_ perform to that level, if they put the effort into it."

"I'm glad I'm not in any of your classes," teased Alfred, "You know I'd flunk."

"You would not," Arthur said sternly, looking at the taller man and frowning.

"Yeah? Then why did you have to tutor me for three years back in high school?" Alfred quipped, thinking back to when he and Arthur had first begun spending time together.

"Excuse me, let me rephrase: You would not flunk if you put you mind to it to succeed. Nothing can ever stop you once you've decided on a course of action- you just need to have an interest in whatever it is you're doing to want that. And don't even suggest that I don't make my classes interesting enough- I teach them the same way I tutored you."

Alfred turned back towards his partner, his arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised. He was smirking, but there was faint evidence of a blush on his cheeks.

"Do you, now? Because I'm pretty sure that your methods in senior year would get you arrested if you tried them on one of your students, especially an entire class full of them."

The frown on Arthur's face deepened, and he gave Alfred the slightest of confused looks before it all came back to him. He blushed bright red, sputtering as Alfred laughed.

"Th-that was completely different! It was only because I had an attraction to you, and you were too dense and too prudish to make any sign that you reciprocated! And there I was, lavishing attention on you and going out of my way to see you outside of an academic sense and you-"

"Chill, Arthur," Alfred grinned, "I knew you were into me. It was just funny watching you get all flustered."

"Why you little...!"

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><p>The next day, Arthur had no classes and Alfred only had a lab in the afternoon. The morning was spent very well (read: not leaving the bed for an hour or so after they woke up, then homemade waffles), and then a movie date before Alfred had to go to his classes.<p>

At home, Arthur busied himself with cleaning up, preparing for tomorrow's lecture and a little embroidery while he tried to combat the stress of hiding his relationship with Alfred. It was a slim chance that they would be seen together by someone from the school and that they would make that connection, but it was not a chance that Arthur was willing to take. He could handle the scrutiny, but to think of his bright and bubbly partner being put through the wringer just because the dean didn't think that men should love other men... it was painful.

So their dates were kept to places where it would be difficult to spot and recognize them, like cinemas or theatres (mostly cinemas, since Alfred usually needed explosions and special effects to keep him entertained for something that lasted more than an hour or so). Sometimes they went to museums, or equivalently public venues, but they were careful to come across as nothing more than friends- sometimes sneaking away to steal a few kisses.

The fact that, if it wasn't for their jobs (and mainly Alfred's at that), they would both be openly gay made things all the more difficult to bear. Their source of income depended on keeping up the charade of 'just friends', because Alfred wanted to save Arthur's inheritance for the future, even if Arthur insisted that they could live comfortably for years with the way he'd invested it. Alfred was one of those blue-collar boys who needed to work for a living to feel satisfied.

The next couple of weeks passed as such, with both professors scouting out the individuals in their classrooms who would be the hard workers, and who would slack off. They made notes of who seemed to need extra help, and who had a good grasp of the material. Upon comparing attendance rosters, they found that they shared several students. Alfred teased Arthur that he should give those students less work to compensate for the workload given by the English professor. He got a loving smack upside the head with a copy of _Macbeth_ for that.

"This is university," sniffed Arthur with a haughty look on his face, "I'm not going to babysit them, nor will I spoon-feed them. They need to learn what real life is. No one will give them handouts in the real world."

"Says the one with an inheritance large enough to buy a small island," chuckled Alfred.

"Not that you'll let us use it," Arthur replied, his tone becoming chilly. Alfred frowned and cupped his lover's face.

"Hey, hey..." he said softly, "Look, you can use it anyway you want for yourself. But I... I don't want to have money that you should be using to make your life easier being spent on something for me."

"Spending it on you _would_ make my life easier," Arthur insisted, "We could buy a real home, a house somewhere quiet. You could have horses, like when we were in school. We wouldn't need to be forced into a closet because of your job. You wouldn't need to work- not like this. You could follow any one of your dreams, Alfred. Don't you think that would make my life easier?"

Alfred sighed, dropping his hands to run his fingers through his hair. Arthur made a good point, and he couldn't really argue against it. He hated forcing Arthur, who had never made his sexuality a secret before they were employed at the school, to endure the same type of secrecy that Alfred had lived with until Arthur had made his affections known all those years ago. It felt selfish either way; to live on money that he didn't earn, or to make his partner suffer like this.

"Let's just finish out the year, and then we'll talk," he said softly, and Arthur wrapped his arms around him in a comforting, understanding gesture.

"My Superman," the shorter man chuckled, "You're such a martyr sometimes, love. When will you do something that makes you truly happy?"

"I have you, don't I?"

Arthur blushed and gave his partner a kiss on the cheek, although it didn't stop his mind from whirring with thoughts of a state where they could legally have each other until death did they part. Iowa, perhaps. There was plenty of room there for Alfred to have his horses. Or maybe somewhere in Vermont (but there was that irrevocable French-ness about it- maybe not). Massachusetts was a third possibility, as long as they stayed out of Boston; the damn state was so proud to be a major part of the American Revolution that Arthur wasn't sure how well he'd be accepted. Perhaps they could take a trip over the summer to visit the few states that would take them in.

"You do have me," he said quietly, bringing Alfred's hand to rest over his heart, "This no longer belongs to me- it is entirely yours, love. It doesn't so much as beat without your care. I will admit that it is a fragile thing, and not particularly pretty, but I trust you to protect it."

Now it was Alfred's turn to blush, but a small smile came over him and he leaned down to give his partner a chaste- but no less loving- kiss.

"You have an unfair advantage with words," he said as he pulled back, "I could never say anything so nicely."

"Pretty words mean very little without sincerity behind them," Arthur said with a smile of his own, "And I have never doubted your sincerity in anything, Alfred, as I hope that you do not doubt my sincerity when I say such tender things to you."

Alfred nodded. It had been a long time since he had not taken Arthur's words to heart. The British man had a sharp tongue and a short temper, and sometimes the words he threw out (especially when he was drunk) stung, but Alfred knew that underneath that draconian exterior and the stubborn, yet easily bruised, pride, Arthur loved him just as much as Alfred loved him. Possibly even more.

"Why don't we go to bed, and you can show me your sincerity," he said, nuzzling Arthur's clavicle and grinning. Arthur gasped softly, but pulled Alfred up into a deep kiss and nodded.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So there you have it, the very first chapter of my very first fanfiction. I can't promise that updates will be regular, but I will try to get them done in a timely fashion. The next chapter may be smexings, but won't have a whole lot to do with the plot, so those who don't want to read it will be able to skip over it without missing anything (except smexings). As it is, I probably won't update until next week, since my girlfriend is coming up to stay for a few days. To those in the US: Have a happy Turkey-Day! To anyone else who may be reading this in a different country (or who doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving) have a good week.


	2. Here's Metal More Attractive

AN: Hi guys! Hope everyone had a good holiday/weekend- I know I did! I was really happy that I could see my girlfriend (we've been apart since August), but it made it so hard to let her go.

A quick correction to the end of last chapters Author's Note: I meant to write "the first chapter of my first **AU** fanfiction". Sometimes I forget to write words into my sentences ^^; Hope that clears up any confusion as to why I had tons of other stories on my profile. Now, on to the story! (Or, in this chapter, glorious man sex time). **This chapter is UKxUS**, though, so if you don't dig that, skip this chapter but don't fret! I shall put in USxUK later on.

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><p>Arthur was picky about most things, and this was something that drove Alfred crazy. For example: stripping had to commence in the room they would end up naked in. There was no trail of clothes leading to the bedroom. These same clothes (or at the very least, Arthur's) had to be neatly folded and placed aside, not just tossed on the floor. These rules were subject to change if both of them (or just Arthur) were drunk, or otherwise too wrapped up in the moment to care if clothes got wrinkled or dirty. Still, Alfred thought that it took them out of the moment. Love and sex were supposed to be passionate! Reckless! Spontaneous! Folding clothes and carefully placing them aside was such a boring, patient, steady thing to do. But that was Arthur for you, and he loved Arthur more than anything, and so he put up with the his partner's little rituals.<p>

"C'mon," the taller man wheedled, tugging Arthur towards their bed, "I want you."

"So impatient," Arthur chided, although he was smiling. He pushed Alfred down on the bed, his green eyes hungry and devilish, "I suppose that's partially my fault. I give in to you far to easily."

"It's 'cause I'm sexy," Alfred grinned, wiggling his hips enticingly. Arthur scoffed and pressed a demanding kiss to his lips, which Alfred was all too eager to respond to.

"You've been using that line since you were seventeen, don't you think it's time for a new one?" teased Arthur, reaching into the bedside table for lube and a condom, his free hand teasing his lover's body. He smirked as the American writhed and attempted to hold back a moan.

"It's the truth!"

"So it is," purred the Brit, warming the lube on his fingers. He knew Alfred was watching him, already imagining those fingers inside of him. By this point in their relationship, Arthur knew exactly how to make Alfred come- seeing fireworks- by doing nothing more than fingering him. That knowledge was enough for him, unless he was feeling particularly impish, but Arthur liked to keep his lover guessing about whether he actually would or not until the very last possible moment. After all, Alfred loved spontaneity; this was Arthur's way of being spontaneous.

"Let me hear you ask for it," Arthur said softly.

"Please, Arthur!" Alfred groaned, pouting, "I've been waiting ages! C'mon!"

"Very well, then."

Slowly, tantalizingly, Arthur began to prepare his lover- purposely drawing it out. Alfred had yet to learn how to control his eagerness, and Arthur was determined to show him through practice. It wasn't that Alfred's technique was _bad_, per se- Arthur loved the energy Alfred exuded- just that he needed to understand the different ways to please his lover.

"Hurry up~!" Alfred whined, shifting his hips and grabbing Arthur's wrist, as if to speed the other man's ministrations manually. Arthur grinned and curled his fingers.

Alfred's complaints stopped immediately as he gasped, blue eyes widening slightly. Arthur grinned, fingers rubbing as his smirk widened.

"What was that you were saying, love~?"

"M-more! _More, dammnit!_" Alfred hissed, rocking against his lover's fingers. Feeling delightfully contrary, Arthur slipped his digits out. The American's eyes narrowed into a glare as he whined at the loss, but his expression brightened when he saw Arthur unwrapping the condom.

"Here, let me," he said, taking the rubber and bottle of lube. Obligingly, Arthur sat back and spread his legs, moaning softly when Alfred rolled the condom on and applied the lube. Alfred might have been clumsy with words, but he was perfectly dexterous with his hands.

"Now who's the one being impatient?" Alfred chuckled as Arthur thrust upwards into his hand.

"Sh-shut up you and get on your back," Arthur snapped, all the heat in his tone taken out by desire, "Or e-else you won't be getting any tonight."

"Aw, is poor Arthur gonna come~?" the American teased even as he obediently laid back, pulling Arthur with him. Arthur growled, and Alfred placed a cheeky kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Refusing to dignify his lover's taunts with a response (although he could certainly think of one! That he was not answering was only a sign of maturity and not at all because he could not think of a retort), Arthur guided himself in. Just for that little comment, Alfred could wait a bit.

"A-Arrrthuurrr..." Alfred moaned loudly, and the green-eyed man clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Keep it down, or I shall have to gag you," he said, wary of the infamous paper-thin walls of apartment buildings, "Be a good lad now, Alfred. Be a good lad, and you will get everything you want and more..."

Slowly, he began to thrust his hips, half-enjoying the way Alfred bit into the back of his hand from crying out, and feeling somewhat more than a little bitter at the restrictions placed on their sex life. He'd have to take Alfred somewhere nice over the next long weekend; somewhere remote, or at least soundproof so he could hear his lover moan and call out his name.

"My beautiful love," Arthur said, picking up his pace and moving Alfred's hand from his mouth to replace it with a kiss. As he used his free hand to stroke Alfred's cock, he nuzzled his partner's neck, longing to leave a bright mark there. It would force him to wear a collared shirt and tie if he wanted to keep it a secret, and he did so love it when Alfred dressed properly (just as it drove Alfred wild when Arthur wore his old t-shirts and jeans).

"Fuck, Arthur! More!" demanded Alfred sharply. Arthur grinned. When Alfred reached this point in his arousal, he would become more and more incapable of forming proper sentences until he came.

Arthur angled himself to strike at his lover's prostate, putting his all into making Alfred feel as much pleasure as possible. He was rewarded by Alfred pulling him in close, fingernails digging into his back and mouth pressed to his collarbone. He couldn't help but think of the stars and stripes that decorated the American flag.

It wasn't long before Alfred came, moaning into Arthur's chest. The British man wasn't far behind him with a series of sort of strangled gasps. After a few moments, Arthur pulled up and disposed of the condom whilst Alfred watched him. In another time, this inspection would have made Arthur self-conscious (still did, a little bit), but Alfred had finally managed to ingrain in him that he was not inspecting faults, but rather studying Arthur's good looks.

Arthur left the bed, kissing Alfred's forehead as he pulled on a robe and went to the bathroom for warm washcloths to clean the pair of them up. He'd have to do laundry and remake the bed tomorrow by himself- one of the drawbacks of having a schedule that did not always match his partner's. Perhaps if he finished quickly enough, he would have some time to relax with a good book and a cup of tea since he had already finished grading papers and making the first exams for his classes.

"Goodnight, Arthur," Alfred murmured as they settled down to sleep. He pulled the smaller man to spoon against him, nuzzling his choppy blonde hair and yawning hugely. "Don't let the bad grammar bite."

"Goodnight, you silly ass," Arthur responded, somehow managing to sound both loving and biting despite his fatigue, "May visions of... of... Arthopods dance in your head."

"Lobsters? I'd rather be dreaming about Arthurs, if you catch my drift."

"...shut up, you."

"Love you too, Artie."

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><p>AN: There you have it, a nice little PWP chapter. Thanks to everyone for the great reviews and support- they're really encouraging. I almost didn't try to finish today (school stress had me stomping about and crying like a two year old. ^^' ) but I wanted to get to you as soon as possible because you all are so awesome! I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can.<p> 


	3. What a Piece of Work is Man

**AN: **Hi guys- sorry for the long wait between updates. School kicked into high-gear for the end of the term and decided to punch me in the face.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Megamind, or Indiana Jones- though I wish I did. -looks at empty pockets- ...on with the show!

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><p>As the semester wore onwards, both professors became more comfortable with their students; they could now pick out who had the dry sense of humor and who would giggle like an immature middle-schooler when bodily functions, or sex, or something equally crude was mentioned. Alfred had even gathered a regular lunch group filled with- surprisingly- students whose main priority was learning. Those with crushes usually backed off once they realized that Alfred was (apparently) completely oblivious to their affections. Even those who had clung to frail straws of hope and had joined the lunch group swiftly came to understand that their professor was a bit of a nerd, and that lunchtime would be spent talking about the intricacies of Star Wars or going into depth about the wonders of a human femur and how the design factored into the building of the Eiffel Tower.<p>

The first few times that Arthur had joined Alfred for lunch when his students were about, the atmosphere became stiff and awkward. He had made to leave, sensing the students' discomfort, but Alfred had pulled him back.

"C'mon, Artie! We need more opinions, and I know you're full of 'em."

"Don't call me Artie," Arthur grumbled, but sat down nonetheless. Slowly, the conversation returned to the table, instigated and encouraged by Alfred, of course. It wasn't as easy as it had clearly been before, but it wasn't as terrible as it might have been, and Arthur found he was beginning to enjoy himself (Especially when he learned that most of Alfred's students referred to him as 'Dr. Jones', even though the American did not have a doctorate). After a few days he was as much a part of the group as any of them and was reveling in the perspective the students gave when he didn't have to instruct them. It was simply amazing how creative and thoughtful they could be when they weren't being demanded answers from.

"Well, yeah," Alfred chuckled one night when they were washing dishes together. He handed Arthur another wet plate to dry and continued. "Of course they're more thoughtful. They're relaxed, they're talking about the things they're interested in. They've given the subject thought in their free time and they don't have the stress of being on the spot and possibly getting the question wrong. They're not being graded, so they don't have to give a 'right' answer. It's meant to be fun."

"I suppose," Arthur sighed, "And these little round-tables have given me some ideas for the curriculum, but you're also meant to be laying low and not giving the school any reason to investigate you too deeply."

"A teacher should be able to teach his students without needing to be stuck to a certain classroom, time, or curriculum!" Alfred retorted passionately, the light reflecting off of his glasses hiding angry blue eyes as he glared at the glass he was washing, "I'm not doing anything wrong- neither of us are even very much older than them, not really- and they're legally adults now! And… why does everyone think it's always about the _sex? _Why can't we have nice, friendly chats and be supportive of our students- be real mentors- without being labeled as sexual deviants?"

The glass shattered in the American's grip and Arthur grabbed a handful of paper towels, his face going pale. Alfred hissed, blood dripping from between his fingers and turning the dishwater an ugly, opaque rusty-pink.

"Here, let me see..." Arthur said softly, taking his partner's injured hand, "Can you open it for me? There's a lad... let's try to wash it out..."

He turned on the tap and let cold water flow out. Alfred grunted in pain when his palm was held under the gentle stream, but otherwise said nothing.

"I'm sorry, love. I know that teaching is important to you- and I agree wholeheartedly that teaching shouldn't be confined to a classroom- I just want to make sure that you don't lose this job because someone thinks otherwise," Arthur murmured, trying to soothe the other man's tember as he began picking glass from Alfred's hand and inspecting it before holding it under the running water again, "Since you're so adamant about not even using my money until the end of the year."

"It isn't fair..." Alfred muttered, like a child who has clearly lost an argument but is unwilling to let the issue go.

"I know, love. But we have to keep hoping for change, don't we?" Arthur smiled, "Look how far things have come: We're not being executed or sent to mental institutions just because we love men, we- you- could join the military and not have to hide the fact that you have a male partner. Things are changing, Alfred, and we're not old men yet- despite what you say about me- we may very well see things get much, much better before we reach middle age. We just have to have heart."

Feeling satisfied that there were no more glass shards in Alfred's hand, Arthur gave him paper towels to hold while he found the first-aid kit. After that it was a matter of disinfecting the cut (which made Alfred howl more than the initial injuries) and bandaging him up.

"You should probably go to the hospital for this," Arthur fretted.

"Nah. It's fine. Hands just bleed a lot because they've got lots of veins and arteries and capillaries," Alfred explained calmly.

"Thank you for the lecture, Professor Jones. Still, I..."

"Honestly, Arthur. You're such a mother hen- I should get you a puppy or something to fuss over."

Bright green eyes looked up from their task when Alfred mentioned his partner's oddly feminine fussing-qualities. A strawberry pink blush streaked across his cheeks and his tongue darted out to lick dry lips.

"I-it would be nice to have more than just the two of us," Arthur said, quickly glancing aside. Alfred frowned at him curiously. Had he insulted the Brit somehow? Why was he blushing and being all adorable? He only did that when he was trying to deny something that knocked at his pride, like when they first admitted that they were attracted to each other.

Wait.

Mother. More than just the two of them...

OH.

Hmm... it would be nice... but there was too much drama and uncertainty in their lives right now. And if Alfred knew Arthur like he thought he did, his partner wouldn't broach the subject for fear that he was 'tying Alfred down'.

Just something else to talk about when they talked about resigning from teaching.

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><p>Alfred's students were concerned the next day when they saw the bandage on his left hand. It was one of the rare days when he found it difficult to keep the class on track as he attempted to lead them through a review for their first exam the following Monday.<p>

"So, remember guys: What it means when we say that all living things have a universal genetic code is that-"

"Dr. Jones," a student piped up, "Dr. Jones, what happened to your hand?"

"I cut it on some glass. No worries, though. My roommate patched me up. Now, when we say that all living things have a universal genetic code, it means that the genetic code of all living things has the same chemical bases: Adenine, thymine, cytosine and guanine. The order of the chemicals and the length of the code is what-"

"Your roommate is Professor Kirkland, right?" someone else asked.

"How did you- yes, that's right. Now guys, can we please focus? On DNA?" Alfred reminded the curious class. Seriously, sometimes having a class so enthusiastic about learning was a bit of a pain. "Now where was I? Oh, right. The order of the chemicals and the length of the code is what differentiates organisms. A more complex organism, like a dog or a human would have a longer genetic code than something like bacteria."

By sheer force of will he managed to get them through the review, but Alfred was still anxious about his class' test results come Monday. It was pretty cool that they were concerned about him, though. And today was Friday- awesome! Maybe he and Arthur could skip town for a couple days and go on a real date.

He pulled the English professor from his office so they could continue to the cafeteria, with less sputtering from Arthur than he had gotten in the past. The shorter man was half-resigned to this new tradition, and half-eager for Alfred to come and find him. He even smiled a little as his door open, putting the final corrections to an essay that was laying on his desk beside a pile of other papers that bore similar marks.

"I assume your fans were in fear for your life?" Arthur teased as they waited in line at the register. Alfred pouted, munching on a french fry (not as good as a french fry from McDonald's, or Burger King, or even Wendy's, but it would do under these circumstances).

"It's weird how often you're right about things. Maybe you should take a break from it some time."

"Only when you stop looking so damn put-out when I am. It's rather amusing."

"I am so not paying for your lunch today."

"Fine, I'll just pay for both of ours, then."

"You play dirty, Kirkland," Alfred grumbled, unable to stop his partner from informing the cashier that, yes, their meals should be charged together.

"You've only just figured this out? Oh, look. They've already assembled! Hello, hello. How are you?"

Arthur sat at the table, exchanging the usual British small-talk that most people found quaint. It was boring as hell when anyone else did it, but in that smooth English accent, it was unfairly charming.

"So, what's the good word, huh?" Alfred said cheerfully, sitting across the way from Arthur, "Any plans for the weekend?"

The group mentioned their various activities: movies, homework, family obligations. Eventually the conversation turned to 'shipping', and Alfred and Arthur found themselves hearing various sides of several heated debates.

"Oh, come on! Megamind and MetroMan want each other so badly! There's so much UST there that you could cut it with a knife."

"No, I can't believe it. Megamind's head-over-heels for Roxanne."

"He has a crush on her. He has way more history with MetroMan."

"Yeah, as enemies."

"Didn't your parents ever tell you why kids tease each other? It's because they like each other but don't know how to say it!"

The two professors exchanged glances. Who knew that their students paired two men together? True, there were the counter-arguments for heterosexual couples, but none of it came off as 'because it has to be a man and a woman'. Each argument had its own evidence and held up much better under scrutiny than the arguments made by some politicians. Alfred was about to take the plunge into the conversation with his own opinions, when one of their companions smoothly diverted the topic.

"The bigger question here is inter-species relations, really. Technically, they're both aliens. Roxanne is a human_._ And if they're dating each other it's the same problem, since they're from different planets and Megamind's people are less humanoid than Metroman's. Also, since we don't know anything about their home worlds, and neither do they, we can't even be sure if their worlds even have something equivalent to our concept of gender."

Alfred looked at the speaker in surprise. She was one of his students, and academic, and usually very quiet. She took meticulous notes, often with additional comments or diagrams in the margins from what he'd seen. Polished One of those "still waters that run deep" types, apparently. She never came to class in pajamas or sweatpants, like some of his students, and even then, jeans were a rarity for her. There was a secretarial air about her.

"I've never thought of it like that before," Arthur mused, a finger on his lips as he looked upwards in thought, "I'm sorry, what's your name again?"

"Anna, professor. Anna Kern."

"Are you familiar with the works of Shakespeare, Ms. Kern?"

"Oh, yes sir!"

Alfred had to chuckle to himself as Anna and Arthur went off on their own little tangent, bantering about the gender roles in the Bard's work and whether his portrayals of women were sexist. It was a conversation that he wasn't even going to try to follow, and most of the other students seemed to have the same opinion. At somewhat of a loss for anything else to say on the previous subject, he decided to incite another topic the best way that he knew how.

"So, who would win in an all-out fight? Avengers or the Justice League?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Some minor plot progression and character development! Woo! Sorry for a lack of dramatic stuff- I don't want to just dump plot points out pell-mell (it's about the journey, right?), and I kind of like this slow building of stuff. I'm trying for subtly here. No, really.

Science-y-stuff is actually taken from my notes in Biology and Zoology. You have learned something by reading this chapter. Muahaha.

Next update will probably be in the new year, and I'll try to crank out some USxUK to make it all fair.

**Last of all:** Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah (few days late from the start, but I think I'm still covered), Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Yule (also a couple days off of that), Season's Greetings (and whatever else I forgot) and a happy and healthy New Year's to you and yours.


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